


We Are Living in a Powder Keg and Giving Off Sparks

by HikaruRyu



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: #TeamIronMan (sorry not sorry), Canon-Typical Violence, Civil War Warzone (2015), Comic Book Science, Depression, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Multiverse, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Slash, Self-Esteem Issues, Super Family (ish?), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-13 04:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikaruRyu/pseuds/HikaruRyu
Summary: “So, first question…” Tony announced, clapping his hands and stroking them with enthusiasm. “What do you guys know about the multiverse?”“Isn’t that the idea about infinite universes?” asked Peter, dangling from the ceiling.“Every choice we make has the potential to create another universe” confirmed Vision.“Ten points to Ravenclaw. You two are totally Ravenclaws. So the thing is: I’m doing the same dream, over and over again, and I’m pretty sure I’m seen one of this alternate universes.”Or MCU!Tony accidentally saves CW2015!Iron Man&Cap.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I’m italian and this is my first english fic, so if you find any error, please tell me.  
>  **Very important:** I’ve started writing this fic before seen Spider-Man Homecoming, then finish it afterwards. It didn’t change much my idea of Tony  & Peter relationship, and I didn’t want to make spoilers. So it can be read like **Homecoming compliant or not**. Either way, Peter decides to spend most of his time in NY with Aunt May and the weekend with the Avengers.  
>  The POV switch between MCU!Tony and CW2015!Tony, when it happens each of them calls himself ‘Tony’ and the other ‘Stark’.  
> The title comes from [‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcOxhH8N3Bo) by Bonnie Tyler.
> 
> A huge thank you - and a thousand more - to [solair](http://archiveofourown.org/users/solair), who is an amazing beta. They don’t really know me, but they helped me anyway and were so patient!  
> Also all my love to [eyeofthebrainstorm](http://eyeofthebrainstorm.tumblr.com/), who proofread this fic and draw a cover for it. Take a look [here](http://eyeofthebrainstorm.tumblr.com/post/163980445364/i-had-the-pleasure-to-beta-read-this-stony-fan)!

_“My God, I would **surrender** if I thought it would get you to listen to me, Steve. But I doubt it would work. I mean, you’d never surrender to me, would you?”  
   
“Not in **this** life, Stark.”_

_  
“Guess I’ll have to head down there and blow it myself.”  
   
“Yeah. Guess we will.”_

_  
“The bomb’s ready. But I don’t see how we blow it without…”  
   
“Of course. That’s why we came down here, isn’t it?”_

_  
“Look at them all.”  
   
“Beautiful. Heroes, every damn one.” [1]_  
…  
..  
.  
Tony woke up with a start. Throat closed, chest constricted, heart beating. He was still breathing, still alive. Did the bomb blow? Steve. Steve! Where was Steve? Lights came up at twenty percent.  
_“Good morning, Mr. Stark. It’s 3:51 AM, July 17, 2017. You are in New York, at Avengers Tower. The weather is 73 degrees, quite windy.”_  
The sheet rustled between his legs. Outside the windows, the New York skyline glittered like Christmas lights. What the hell was _that?_ He was Tony Stark. He was Iron Man. He was alive. New York was never split in two states. The Iron didn’t exist, and he definitely wasn’t a president. He wasn’t even CEO of his own company.  
   
But… fuck, that seemed so real. He felt every punch, every kiss, every heartbreaking second of it. Six years. Six years of a superheroes’ Civil War. _My God_. They split New York apart. They split the _world_ apart. And Steve – no, _General Rogers_ – hated him.  
   
Was all that just a dream? It wasn’t fading away like the usual dreams. Every detail was still painstakingly clear.  
   
“Friday?”  
   
_“Yes, Mr. Stark?”_  
   
“Did you detect any strange readings during my sleep?”  
   
_“Like what, Boss?”_  
   
Tony stood up and walked to the window, put an arm against it and his forehead on his fist. The air was cold between his bare legs. “I don’t know, anything. Everything.”  
   
Six fucking years. Compared to that, their Civil War was like a kindergarten squabble. And Bucky Barnes – even a _fake_ Barnes – was one of his? How could that seem real to any Tony and Steve? Barnes would never choose anyone but Rogers.  
   
_“Just the usual reading.”_  
   
_I need a drink_. No, scratch that, he needed-  
   
The cell phone was there in the drawer beside the bed. He never used it. Never even turned it on. Never thought of doing it. Until now.  
   
He wanted to hear Steve’s voice. Could call him. Maybe should do it.  
   
He didn’t.  
   
   
***  
   
   
“So, first question…” Tony announced, clapping his hands and stroking them with enthusiasm.  
   
“What do you guys know about the _multiverse_?”  
   
“Isn’t that the idea about infinite universes?” asked Peter, dangling from the ceiling.  
   
“Every choice we make has the potential to create another universe,” confirmed Vision.  
   
“Ten points to Ravenclaw. You two are totally Ravenclaws. So the thing is: I’m doing the same dream, over and over again, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen one of this alternate universes.”  
   
“Why?” said Peter with evident skepticism.  
   
“No Spider-Baby, the right question is…” Tony pointed a finger in Vision’s direction.  
   
“How?” the android concluded.  
   
“I _love_ this class,” declared the genius. “So, how could that happen?”  
   
“It couldn’t. Unless…” reflected Vision.  
   
“Unless there’s a tear in the space’s tissue! See, I can do the completing each other’s sentences too!” exclaimed Spider-Man, jumping down to the pavement.  
   
Tony smiled briefly. “So come on children, let’s find it.”  
   
   
***  
   
   
The tear was right in the middle of Manhattan. It emitted a reading they had never seen before, almost undetectable. If Tony didn’t dream the Divide, the canyon sized rift between the Iron and the Blue, he probably would never have found it. Here was where it all started, when it all went to shit, right under the point where the heroes teleported from Project 42.  
   
Of course, it was in the sewers, so no one noticed the bright crack of light in the tunnel. It was like a crooked smile floating mid-air.   
   
“This is so Doctor Who,” Spider-Man said. “ _Silence will fall_.”  
   
“Let’s hope not,” deadpanned Tony, voice thinner through the mask armor.  
   
“So now what?”  
   
“Now we close it,” replied Iron Man. “Friday, can we?”  
   
_“Calculating…”_ she said promptly. _“If we revert the radiations and double them we could, in theory, close it.”_  
   
“Perfect. Do it.”  
   
Tony raised his palm and was about to blast the crack when the Vision suddenly said: “Wait!”  
   
At the same time, Friday announced: _“I’m getting some new readings.”_  
   
“It seems something is trying to come through,” the android explained. And just like that, the tear exploded.  
   
A flash of blinding light and they went all flying. Vision managed to go intangible just in time, Tony cracked his head through the wall tunnel, and Spider-Man was splattered with the shallow water, coughing and moaning.  
   
“Ew, blah, my mask is drenched. What the hell was that?” the kid said, raising to his knees.  
   
Tony shook his head to clear his vision. The readings inside the mask were all trembling and stuttering, not helping with the vertigos. When the visual returned clear, he blinked twice or ten times.  
   
“Well, on the bright side, the tear is closed,” Iron Man assured, while Peter took off the mask from his mouth. “On the other side…” he trailed off.  
   
Vision was already hovering there, studying the scene.  
   
The were four more people in the tunnel. Two very green, very ugly aliens, one star-spangled man, and another armored hero – all unconscious.  
   
“Is that what aliens look like? I totally shouldn’t have quoted Doctor Who, right? Oh boy... Mr. Stark, what  are we gonna do with them?”  
   
   
***  
   
   
Tony woke up with a start. Throat closed, chest constricted, heart beating. He was still breathing, still alive. Did the bomb blow? Steve. Steve! Where was Steve? He looked around frantically, but he didn’t have to look too far. Steve was right beside him. His eyes were closed, the helmet was off, and half of his face was blue and puffy. Before he could think properly, Tony put an ear on his breast. The heartbeat was strong and steady. And now that he was leaning over it, Tony could feel his chest rise and fall too.  
   
“He’s okay,” came a familiar voice, startling him.  
   
That was the moment he really looked around them. They were both laid on a big table, inside what he quickly recognized as a quinjet. Everything had that particular shade of steel gray. Next to them, sticking to the wall, was Spider-Man. Not Peter Parker as he remembered him but Spider-Man in his old red and blue costume.  
   
Tony didn’t have to think; he acted on pure instinct. Before he thought about it, the armor gauntlet wrapped around his wrist and blasted him. The Skrull evaded the first and then the second beam like a proper Spider-Man, but he didn’t fool him.  
   
“You are not up with gossip if you think Peter still wears that costume.”  
   
“Woah, woah! Wait a second, Mr. Stark, I’m not one of those green aliens. They are webbed down there in the back,” the kid – he was evidently a kid for some reason – blurted out. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood-”  
   
He didn’t finish. Tony blasted him right in the face with the frequency for Skrull.  
   
“ _Ouch!_ My eyes...” Spider-Man exclaimed, blinded by the bright flash. At the same time, another armored hand clamped down on Tony’s wrist.  
   
“ _Don’t,_ ” ordered a metallic voice, and Tony raised his eyes to meet an old fashioned gold-titanium alloy Iron Man mask. A moment later the helmet retracted. “We are not Skrulls. You are in another universe,” explained the man. His hair was still black, and the suit was an old model, but he was definitely him- another him.  
   
Fuck. Could this really be true?  
   
“You okay, kid?” asked his doppelganger, unsubtly putting Spider-Man behind him.  
   
“Ye-Yeah, Mr. Stark. I-I’m good.”  
   
“Peter?” Tony said, turning his eyes on the kid.  
   
“Yup, that’s me,” he said, taking away his mask. The beam didn’t hurt humans, just forced Skrulls to reveal their real aspect. He wasn’t a Skrull. “So there’s a Spider-Man in your universe too, huh?” Peter continued nervously.  
   
Oh God, he was so young…  
   
“Are we good?” questioned him the other Tony, hand still clamped on his wrist.  
   
“Yeah,” rasped Tony. “Yeah, we are good.”  
   
“Alright,” Iron Man let his wrist go. “I took the liberty of taking away your armor. We needed to see if you were fine. The rest of it is just there beside the door.”  
   
As he talked, his suit released him and marched in the direction of the door, falling in sentinel mode next to the other armor.  
   
Tony telepathically ordered the gauntlets to detach, and they went back to the suit. The other one – his counterpart’s – was clearly less advanced, maybe a Mark 50 or 57. But how could he-  
   
“Of course, voice recognition protocol.”  
   
“Yeah, we use the same code too.”  
   
A moan made them all look down. Steve was waking up. Peter and this universe’s Stark prudently took a step back. Tony had no idea what kind of reaction Rogers would have to seeing him there – just an hour ago they were still enemies – but it was better than letting him see two copies of his friends. So he put a hand on his chest and bent down to occupy his entire field of vision.  
   
“Steve? How do you feel? Steve-”  
   
The General startled awake, heart beating hard under his palm, breath puffing. His blue eyes stared him for a long minute while he calmed down.  
   
“Are we dead?” he rasped out.  
   
“No. But... _we aren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto._ ” Tony informed him before leaving him more space to breathe. “It seems we are in another universe.”  
   
Rogers sat up and then saw the other two. “There’s another Tony Stark now. Perfect. This day just gets better and better.”  
   
Neither he or his counterpart replied to that. It wasn’t a good sign.  
   
_Is this universe Steve Rogers an asshole too?_  
   
A glass of water appeared in his visual field. Tony stared at the red hand; and then, his eyes came up to the green sleeve. His heart almost stopped again.  
   
“I thought you would be thirsty,” Vision said in a voice he never heard before. But it was Vision. The first Vision, not the Young Avenger kid.  
   
“ _Oh my God!_ ” Tony exhaled. “You are _alive_.”  
   
The glass sloshed when he got suddenly up and hugged the android. Vision didn’t react badly but didn’t reciprocate either.  He gently put a hand on his back, though.  
   
“I’m not the Vision you know, President Stark,” he reminded him.  
   
Tony froze. “O- Of course not. Sorry. It’s just- it’s been a long time,” he mumbled, taking a step back.  
   
“It is of no consequence.” Vision reassured him, offering him again the glass half full. Tony noted that he didn’t bring one for Steve. That was practically hostile from the android.  
   
“Thank you, V,” the genius smiled, touched. “I’m a president here too?” then asked, looking at his counterpart.  
   
“No, just plain old me. I don’t want to be the president of anything at all.”  
   
“Neither did I.” Tony replied, taking a sip. Rogers scoffed, and he did his best to ignore him. “So, if _you_ are not a president, how do you know _I_ am?”  
   
“That’s actually kind of funny. I dreamed about you. The whole thing since Miriam Sharpe died, every night for about a week, over and over again,” he revealed. “I saw it like I actually was you and- and it was just- too real. That’s when I began to understand it had to be another universe. Then, we found the tear in space. My theory is-”  
   
“The bomb caused it. Bellcurve was designed to take away any non-tech power. But the energy it stole-”  
   
“It had to go somewhere.” Stark confirmed. “I think the tissue of the universe was already unstable for some reason, and the bomb cracked it. You two were probably stuck between universes, and when I came closer-”  
   
“You worked as a magnet and pulled us through.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“ _Wow!_ That’s like following a tennis match. I’m kind of having whiplash from the speed you think together,” said Peter.   
   
“Shut up, Spider-Baby.” Stark chided.  
   
“So where are you taking us?” questioned Rogers.  
   
“At the New Avengers facility. It’s an old Mr. Stark’s propriety just outside of the city. We are almost there,” answered Vision.  
   
“Your voice is different.” Steve observed.  
   
“It’s the one I always had. Admittedly, it wasn’t mine first. It used to be JARVIS’ voice.”  
   
“ _Oh…_ ” That explained it. “So that’s why you don’t call me- us- Tony. Cute.”  
   
   
***  
   
   
“I’ll have to take away your suit, at least for now. Hope you understand.” Tony announced to his white haired counterpart, once at the compound. “It’ll be safe in the lab. I even promise that I will not tinker with it outside of your presence.”  
   
Stark nodded. Now that they were walking side by side, Tony noticed his other self was a little bit taller. To his eyes, he looked still a bit dazed, but his voice was firm when he replied: “Keep your hands away from it. I know you are dying of lust and can’t wait – I would feel the same – but the suit will not work for you. Not without Extremis.”   
   
“ _Extremis_?” Tony asked, intrigued. “What could a flop super-soldier serum do for Iron Man?”  
   
“Make you a technopathic. You should know I’m not helpless without the suit. Most of the feedbacks you have inside the mask are in my head. I’m constantly connected to Wi-Fi and satellite coverage and can feel every machine around me. Including your armor,” Stark explained.  
   
Okay, now Tony was really jealous. Also kind of scared. How was he going to contain this man if he went rogue?  
   
“How did you do that?”  
   
“I had to modify Maya’s version. It’s a long story. Was a long time ago. I was dying, didn’t had much of a choice,” he said flippantly, walking around like he owned the place. Rogers looked up sharply at the last bit, shock clearly written in his eyes, but didn’t say anything.  
   
“I’ll have to take the shield too,” Tony said, without really looking at the General. This Steve Rogers was different from the one he knew. The military buzz cut and olive green cargo pants gave him a really Schwarzenegger look. His skin was sun-baked to a gold-brown tinge. His hair bleached by sunlight. And somehow he looked older; every line in his face seemed to be cut deeper and harsher. But the voice was the same, the same baby-blue eyes, same plush mouth. Tony couldn’t stand it. “Don’t worry. I already have one to match it in storage.”  
   
At that, Rogers stopped in his tracks. “You killed him?” He said, face blank.  
   
Tony froze mid-step.  
   
“ _What?_ ” he replied harshly. “You think _I’m_ a killer. Wow. Priceless. That’s really rich coming from you. No, Steve Rogers isn’t dead. He just isn’t _here_ anymore. He _left_. And he just doesn’t _deserve_ that fucking shield anymore,” he said right up in his face. “My father made that shield. That’s Stark propriety. So you can take your self-righteous indignation and kindly shove it up your ass.”  
   
Stark raised an eyebrow, impressed. The General stared Tony down, towering over him. He clearly didn’t have any intention to back off. But didn’t managed to reply.  
   
“What the hell is this, Tones?” Jim Rhodes was there, keeping himself up with a hand on the wall. Every step painstakingly difficult even with the new implant.  
   
“ _Oh my god,_ ” Stark whispered, and in the blink of an eye was right beside Rhodey, helping him stand. “What happened to you?”  
   
Rhodes was struck dumb in front of another Tony Stark. “Uh- T, do you have a cousin or something you never told me about? Because I swear to God if this is your evil twin-”  
   
“Not a twin, just from an alternate universe,” Stark cut in. “ _What happened to you?_ ” he stressed.  
   
“ _Alternate u-_ ” Rhodey took a deep breath, pinching the bridge between his eyes. “Okay. Two Tony Starks. Okay” he whispered.  
   
“Rhodey. _Jim,_ ” insisted the new Tony.  
   
Rhodes exhaled, then brought up his chin. “ _He_ happened,” said, unforgiving eyes fixed on Rogers.  
   
“It was kind of an accident; Vision didn’t mean it. But, yeah, mostly him.”  
   
“I’m not-” the General tried.  
   
“I really don’t care.”  
   
   
***  
   
   
Vision gave them the rest of the tour. Explained about Friday and showed them to their rooms. The one assigned to him was common, almost spartan. As much as any room designed by a Stark could be spartan, anyway. That meant a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and any kind of tech you could possibly need. In front of the wardrobe already hung a suit, probably one of his counterpart’s. Tony put a hand through his white hair. He felt naked without the armor especially in an unknown place like this. But, well… he guessed a suit was better than going around in the skintight onesie. Just another kind of armor.  
   
He reached behind the neck to pull down the zipper, got naked and took a shower in the adjacent bathroom, removing the sweat and grime left by the battle and bomb blast. He was wrapping a towel around his hips when a discreet knock came to the door. “Who’s there, Friday?”  
   
_“General Rogers, Counter-Boss.”_  
   
Tony thought briefly if it would be better keep changing or put back up the under-armor, but ultimately decide against it. It was nothing Rogers hadn’t seen before, thanks to one villain or another. “Come in” he called.  
   
Steve opened the door, then saw his state of (un)dress and came rapidly in, shutting it behind himself. “Hey,” said with his shoulders against the door.  
   
“Hey.” Tony felt mildly uncomfortable – Rogers was blocking the only way out – but didn’t want to show it, so he decided to keep going like nothing happened and went back to changing his clothes.  
   
“What can I do for you, General?”  
   
Steve winced, then brought his eyes to the ceiling when the towel fell down. Of course Tony wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “We need to talk.”  
   
“Do we?” Tony wasn’t looking at him, more invested in putting on some pants.  
   
“I think we do... I want to.”  
   
“Then talk,” conceded Stark, while buttoning the shirt. At least they were looking at each other, now.  
   
   
Still, Steve kept silent for awhile, long enough for him to finish changing. Tony, hands on his hips, raised an eyebrow in a mute question. That seemed to work.  
   
“You were amazing down there. You didn’t even hesitate to come with me. And if it wasn’t for you…”  
   
Tony turned his gaze away again, lips thinned in a white line. “It’s what we do.” He was not the monster that Blue’s propaganda machine said.  
   
“Yeah. I guess- I just- all these years, Tony. It was just easier think I didn’t really know you, that the man I thought you once were never existed,” Steve admitted. “I forgot you are a hero. And I’m sorry for that.”  
   
Tony looked down at his naked feet. He wasn’t expecting that, didn’t know what to say. ‘Nice of you to notice’ wasn’t right. ‘I missed you’ wasn’t enough.  
   
“I understand. Or at least… I can see why you did it.” He never thought Steve wasn’t a hero. A stubborn jackass, maybe. But Steve Rogers could never be something other than a hero.  
   
“We should have died there.”  
   
“Yeah, well… you have a history of _not dying_ , so we shouldn’t be so surprised.”  
   
“It would have been an honor. To die beside you.”  
   
“I’m kind of glad we didn’t.”  
   
“I’m glad _you_ didn’t, Shellhead.”  
   
“Fuck.” Suddenly his eyes were burning. “ _Fuck_.” He put a hand over them. “You can’t say shit like that.”  
   
Steve’s face crumbled. “Sorry.”  
   
“Six years,” Tony said, voice sore in his tight throat. “You hated me for six years.”  
   
“You hated me too, Tony.”  
   
“No, I didn’t- I could _never_ -” He just couldn’t finish. He could feel Steve in front of him, now. Steve’s hands sort of hovering above his shoulders, like he wasn’t allowed to touch him, like he didn’t know how to do it. They didn’t know how to touch each other without doing damage, anymore.  
   
“I _tried_ to hate you,” Steve admitted. “But- please Shellhead, look at me.”  
   
No. No. Because then he would just forgive him. _Fuck!_ “I’m too old for this shit. I can’t do it.”  
   
Steve’s hands fell. “I really am sorry, Tony.”  
   
Tony swallowed a sob, refused to let it out. _Stark men are made of iron_. His hands fell too, but he didn’t look up.  
   
“I didn’t name the Iron after me, you know?” he said instead. “I chose that name because I wanted the nation to be _strong_ , to be _safe_.”  
   
“Yeah. I thought so. I shouldn’t have used it against you,” Steve conceded. “You said some pretty harsh thing too.”  
   
“I said what I thought was true. And I thought you are- were- a completely different person from the one I used to know,” Tony confessed.  
   
“Maybe I am.” Rogers looked at the palms of his hands like they held the answer. “Most days I don’t like the man I see in the mirror very much.”  
   
“Story of my life, Cap.”  
   
Silence.  
   
“I just- I need to understand how much was _us_ and how much was Queen Veranke’s meddling.”  
   
Tony thought of Rogers leaving the Divide after Miriam Sharpe’s murder, refusing to listen to him. Again. “Does it matter?” he parroted him.  
   
“Yes, it _does_. This- this thing is making me insane, I can’t stop thinking about it.”  
   
_Me too_.  
   
“The first time we tried to apprehend you, just after the SHRA passed, I asked you to listen to me, offered you my hand. You took it and stuck a scrambler on me, scrambled my armor, my brain. Was that you?”  
   
Steve gulped but didn’t turn his gaze away. “Yes.”  
   
Tony closed his eyes. That was when it all started to go to shit between them. At least for him.  
   


_“… at the end, what you want trumps everything else. It’s a quality a see in a lot of alcoholics.” **[2]**_  
   
_“You have no idea what motivates me, you **arrogant peacock**.” **[3]**_

  
   
Did they really know each other? Did they ever?  
   
“I tried to tell you. I’ve asked you to listen to me so many times-”  
   
“Tony-”  
   
“After Miriam’s death, I knew there was something off. I’ve analyzed the statistical probability of every major event, from Stamford’s catastrophe to Miriam’s assassination. The destruction of Project 42, the Invasion, Osborn, Sentry, the Plague Years… they were the lottery winners. That was Veranke’s play,” he revealed. “But everything else…  that- that was just us.”  
   
   
***  
   
   
The shield was at the same time lighter and heavier than it looked. Vibranium was a really light metal, but the shield itself was huge. On Steve, it somehow looked just right, small enough to stay on his forearm but large enough to cover his back. It was too big for Tony; it came up to the middle of his upper arm and wasn’t practical at all. The General’s shield looked just like the one he knew, same size, same weight, same colors... but it showed a million little scratches he didn’t know.  
   
Tony followed the edge with a finger, remembering the feel of it crashing the arc reactor, the metal caving in, constricting is chest, smashing his ribs. Would he have done it even when the arc reactor was the only thing keeping him alive? Did he forgot how defective his chest was, how fragile his recomposed sternum? Did he ever care?  
   
 _He almost killed me. With the shield my father gave him_.  
   
Without prompt, Friday opened the storage unit were the other shield was kept. Side by side, they looked like two buttered, tired twins.  
   
“Are you going to tell him?” asked Rhodey, bringing him back to the present.  
   
“Whom?”  
   
“You know who.”  
   
“You are such a Potterhead.”  
   
“ _Tony-_.”  
   
He sighed. “About what?”  
   
“His older copy and your handsome doppelganger.”  
   
“I do look good in white, don’t I?”  
   
“Yeah, you aged great,” his best friend agreed. “Stop trying changing the subject, though.”  
   
“Why should I tell him?” He snapped, shutting the storage. “What good could it do?”  
   
“I don’t know. Maybe seeing you two from outside could help you both,” Rhodey said not quite ironically.   
   
“He doesn’t want to be here. Said he didn’t feel at home with us.”  
   
“That’s not what he said.”  
   


_‘We all need family… I never really fit in anywhere…’_  


   
“Doesn’t matter. He made his choice.”  
   
   
***  
   
   
Tony’s naked feet were silent on the parquet, the ceramic cup between his hands pleasantly warm. He left the kitchen, coming down to the living room area. It was very late or very early, depending on the perspective, so most of the lights were out, and he didn’t bother to turned them on. That was probably why he didn’t immediately notice the wide figure in front of the windows until he was too closed. It was just a black shape against the glass panel and the starry night behind it, but Tony didn’t need any light to recognize him. Sometimes he thought he would perceive his presence even in pitch dark. There was just something electric in the air when they were this close.  
   
Steve put a hand in his blonde hair. He looked a little bit lost to him. Then he saw Tony in the reflection of the window. “Can’t sleep?”  
   
“Something like that,” he admitted, stopping next to him, eyes on the stars outside. It was easier than looking at him.  
   
“Yeah, me too.” They were whispering, probably because of the hour. Then, the General noticed what he was drinking.  
   
“You don’t like bland milk,” he said, like the content of the cup didn’t make any sense.  
   
Tony shrugged. “Coffee didn’t seem like a good idea.”  
   
He couldn’t say that he learned to like it, that in the last six years he had a cup of milk every time he felt upset or lonely because it- it reminded him of Steve, of their sleepless night at the Mansion all those years ago.  
   
“I was looking for the library,” Cap said suddenly. “But they don’t seem to have one, here.”  
   
That’s right, Steve always liked to read when he couldn’t sleep.  
   
“If you want a book-”  
   
“No, that’s not- I was- It reminds me of the Mansion,” Steve admitted. “When I woke up from the ice, I felt so- so lost. Every time I couldn’t sleep, I went to the library because- Iron Man was there.” At that, Tony looked up, surprised, but Rogers didn’t meet his eyes. “And if he wasn’t already there, he would arrive after a bit. And we would talk, or just sit there in silence, both reading. _You_ were there.” Cap concluded.  
   
Tony looked at the immaculate surface in the cup. “It was so easy, back then,” he murmured.  “Whatever happened, we could just brush it out with a few word and go back home.” he added. _I haven’t felt at home since you left, Tony thought._  
   
“I want to go home, Tony,” he whispered, head bowed. “Here doesn’t feel right.”  
   
“I’ll do my best. Me and other-me.”  
   
“Yeah, I know,” he said, like he didn’t have any doubt. Like he still trusted him that much. “I keep thinking- what you said to Stark, about Extremis. You never told me you were dying.”  
   
Tony sobered up, the nostalgic atmosphere broken. “What does it matter?” he scoffed. “You think I would have done it anyway, just because I can. Don’t you?”  
   
“I- it would have mattered.”  
   
“You never liked Extremis.”  
   
“You never needed Extremis to be Iron Man.” he snapped.  
   
“I needed it to live!” Tony snapped back.  
   
“ _I didn’t know that._ You never told me. It _would_ have make the difference.”  
   
“You what, just assumed I did it for shits and giggles?”  
   
“You showed up with this strange new powers and waved them around like they were your best invention ever. What should I have thought?”  
   
Tony turned his eyes to the floor. “You could have asked _why_.” _Instead, you just assumed the worst. About me. But what’s new?_ , he thought.  
   
Steve grinded his teeth, a muscle in his jaw bulging out. “Why do we always end up fighting?”  
   
Tony shrugged again, then left the cup on a nearby table. “You asked. I answered. You just don’t like the answer.”  
   
“I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to-”  
   
“Understand.”  
   
“ _Yes_.”  
   
“I can give you all the explanation in the world, Steve. We can talk till the end of time. But some things- some things you just have to _accept them_. You have to accept that I know what I was doing, that I did _my best,_ ” Tony stressed. “That’s the only thing I always try to do.”  
   
“I know. I know you do. And I know you always did what you thought was right. Never fault you that.”  
   
“But I always do what I want because I just think – by virtue of my genius – that I know best, right? Yeah, I didn’t forget,” he said bitterly, thinking of that day in a destroyed Mansion all those years ago. [4] “Did it ever occur to you that maybe _I do_? That I _can_ see what it’s going to happen better than anyone else? That I do something because I know the alternative would be _worst_?”  
   
“How can I, when you _don’t talk to me?_ ” Rogers snarled. “You’ve always kept things for yourself, Stark. Your health, the drinking, _the Illuminati_ … You stopped talking to me!”  
   
“ _I was trying to protect you!_ ” They were shouting now. “Do you have any idea what they would have like to do with people like you? Like Peter?”  
   
“So that’s why you try to put us in jail-”  
   
“I tried to bring you by my side! I never wanted to do this alone. _Never_. I wanted you _with me,_ ” Tony burst out, beating a hand on his own chest. “But you never listen to me, Steve,” he concluded, dejected. “You never trusted me.”  
   
“That’s not true.”  
   
“Isn’t it?” he said, turning to go. They needed to end this conversation before their host came running. It was useless, anyway.  
   
“Is not,” Rogers pressed, gripping his elbow.  
   
 _You sure have a strange way to show it_ , Tony thought. Then sighed. “I’m tired, Steve.”  
   
But Cap didn’t let him go, instead gripped Tony’s other arm too. “This is important.”  
   
“We aren’t going to solve anything.”  
   
“That’s not going to stop me this time. I’m tired of giving up. Why _should_ we give up? Do you want this to stay as it is?”  
   
Tony wanted peace. Wanted quiet. What he wanted, more than anything, was to go back. Back home, back to when things were simple, when they were friends. But somewhere down the way he had started to think that that was never real. Because how can you say things like that to someone you respect? How can you love someone you don’t thrust?  
   
 _He’s right. Why should he love me? That’s stupid. I don’t deserve it. He’s right. I’m a monster_.  
   
“Tony!” Steve snarled shaking his arms, with the tone of someone who tried several times already. Tony head snapped up, his eyes wide and dull, breath short. Rogers stared at him, shocked, horrified. “You’re not- Tony, how long have you been like this?”  
   
“I- I don’t know what you are- talking about.” He tried to get rid of his grip, but Rogers wouldn’t let him. “Let go of me. _Let go!_ ” Tony snapped, panicked.  
   
Steve let him go like he was on fire. “Tony, please- Shellhead-”  
   
“Stop. Just _stop_.” He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stand that. It wasn’t real. Shellhead. It wasn’t Tony. It was another man. It wasn’t real. He never existed.  
   
“Of course it’s real!” Steve blurted, trying to touch him again. Tony sprang back. “Of course he’s you. Who else could it be? Tony- Tony look at me, breathe- breathe with me.”  
   
No, it wasn’t. The man Steve called that was fake. The real Tony was a monster. And Steve hated him. It was all useless. _He_ was useless. He only made things worst.  
   
 _“Mr. Stark, I need your immediate attention,”_ intruded a new voice. Friday, Tony recalled. _“Please, locate five objects you can reach with your hand and touch them.”_  
   
“What?” snapped Rogers.  
   
Tony was there with him until he remembered something like that. Like the constricting feeling in his chest. Panic attack. It was a panic attack. _Shit._ Five objects. Five. He could do that.  “T- Table. Cup...” he started touching what was on his right, then his left. “Win- Window. Sofa. S- Steve.”  
 _Nonono, don’t think of Steve_. Steve would hate him even more now. Now he saw how pathetic he truly was. _Pathetic, useless piece of trash_. Tony closed his eyes shut.  
   
“Don’t objectify me, Tony,” Steve said in mock outrage.  
   
“You- you are really objectifiable, you- you know.”  
   
“That’s not even a real word.”  
   
 _“Now please identify four colors around you, Mr. Stark,”_ continued Friday.  
   
The parquet: “Brown.” The cup: “Red.” The carpet: “Green.” And- and- Tony looked frantically around for a new color until Rogers steadied him. Steve’s eyes. Even in the dark, Steve’s eyes were so very… “Blue.”  
   
 _“Three sounds, Boss, please.”_  
   
Tony took a ragged breath and tried to listen to something that wasn’t the frantic beating of his own heart.  
   
“The humming of the fridge,” he noticed first. “The clock ticking...” There on the wall, and outside- “The crickets.”  
   
 _“Very good, Mr. Stark. Can you find me two scents?”_  
   
“Grass,” he replied almost immediately, the citrus smell of the recently soaked earth coming from the windows. “Aftershave.” Steve’s cologne was barely perceptible but so close.  
   
“A flavor?” the AI asked again.  
   
“Milk,” Tony answered, the taste still on his tongue.  
   
 _“Nice work, Mr. Stark. Thank you. How are you feeling?”_ Friday queried.  
   
That was when Tony realized he could breathe now.  
   
“Much better, thanks,” he said, surprised.  
   
 _“At your service, Counter-Boss.”_  
   
This had to be a protocol if Friday recognized the symptoms and knew exactly what to do. Did the other Tony suffer from panic attacks? It had been so long since he had one he didn’t immediately understand what was happening, but for the AI to make such an intervention his doppelganger had to- a soft touch came to his forehead, brushing away a lock of Tony’s hair. Astonished, he stared the man in front of him. Steve’s hand was trembling while he moved his fingers through his white hair.  
   
“You scared me,” he whispered.  
   
“Sor-”  
   
“No. No, _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t realize-” Steve took a shaking breath. “You are so brave. You are one of the bravest men I know,” he declared. And that was really something because they knew quite a few. But he hadn’t finished: “Surely the smartest. You are brilliant. You are just _brilliant_. You know I think that, right?”  
   
“What are you doing?” Tony was so confused. He felt paper thin already, and Steve-  
   
“Always. Always thought that,” he remarked. “And you are kind. You were always kind. You gave me a home-” Steve’s voice broke.  
   
“Hey… Cap…” Tony took his shaking hand in his own, squeezing lightly. “It’s okay. I’m okay now. I promise.”  
   
Rogers dropped his gaze off the floor. “You are _not_ a monster. You are a hero. And I’m- I never wanted to do this to you, Tony. I didn’t realize- I’m so- _so very sorry-_ ” he choked.  
   
Tony saw a drop of light falling down; and only when he heard the minute splash, he understood it was a tear.  
   
 

 

* * *

[1] Civil War Warzone, issue #5.

[2] Casualties of War.

[3] Civil War Warzone, issue #1

[4] Casualties of War.


	2. Chapter 2

The lab at the compound wasn’t nice or flashy like the one in the Tower. It still felt new, unfamiliar. But it contained everything Tony could possibly need, so it had to do. There was someone keeping him company, he knew. Peter, until Happy took him back to Aunt May for the night. Rhodey, at some point. Vision helped him for several hours, but eventually, he had to go recharge too. And Friday. Of course, there was always Friday. For the entirety of the day, he’d never been truly alone.   
   
He never felt more lonely.  
   
He felt hollow. There just was this empty hole in his chest that he didn’t know how to fill. It didn’t hurt exactly; it was numb. Sometimes, just for a moment, he could fill it with Peter’s smile, with Vision’s voice, with Rhodey’s presence. But it wasn’t enough. And Tony didn’t know what else could it take. He felt like he was missing something, some fundamental piece without whom he couldn’t work, he shouldn’t work. But instead he was going on, and on, and on…  
   
Sometimes, Tony wondered what it would need to fill it. Pepper? The other Avengers? He didn’t know. He kept working.  
   
Tony wasn’t certain how much time had passed since Vision left. It felt like five minutes, but it probably was a lot more because light was filtering through the shades. He didn’t turned around when the door whooshed open. Friday probably did announce someone was coming, but Tony wasn’t listening.  
   
“Do I really look like that?” the voice startled him. It was so fucking strange to hear his own voice when he wasn’t talking.  
   
“Completely spaced out? Yes.” At Rogers’ voice, his heart stopped, then started beating wildly. Like something jump-started it. “How long have you been here?”  
   
Tony blinked a couple of time. “What time is it?”  
   
_“It’s 07:35 AM, Boss. You’ve been here for more than ten hours,”_ Friday said helpfully.  
   
“Tattletale.” A cup of coffee invaded his peripheral vision; the bitter scent almost made him moan.  
   
“I brought you something,” Stark said, and Tony immediately snatched the cup from his hand and gulped down a good quarter of it.  
   
“Thanks,” he remembered his manners. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”  
   
“I was wondering if you’d like a hand,” his counterpart explained.  
   
“I’m more concerned with something else,” Rogers said though. “What have you done with the Skrulls?”  
   
“We are holding them in a Hulk-proofed cell here, for the moment. A certain Captain proved the Raft isn’t all that secure after all, so we don’t have a better location right now,” Tony replied sipping from his cup, utterly unconcerned.  
   
“You should kill them,” the General deadpanned.  
   
Tony brought slowly down his coffee, placing the cup on the worktable with excessive care. “Come again?”  
   
“You heard me. They are too dangerous. Let them live, and eventually they will find a way to break out and contact their home planet, and then, the entire Skrull Empire will be upon you. And believe me, you are not ready for that.”   
   
Tony was astonished. He never thought he would ever hear Steve Rogers talking about murder so casually. “Do you kill every alien coming down to your Earth? What about Asgardians? What about people like Loki? Thor?”  
   
“That’s different.”  
   
“It’s really not. Those Skrulls are soldiers; they were following orders. We will keep them prisoner and when we find a way to get you guys back home, the Skrulls will go too,” Tony explained, stressing the last part. “They can’t stay here. They are not from this universe.”  
   
“Then, they will die in ours. You’re are just delaying the sentence,” Rogers concluded.  
   
Tony looked at his counterpart, but Stark’s expression was dark and stony, his eyes averted. “You don’t have anything to say?”  
   
“I’m sorry. He’s right about this,” Stark replied. “You don’t have any idea of what the Skrulls are capable of. They are stronger than humans; they can shapeshift and become anyone else. They sometimes even have the powers of the Fantastic 4. _All_ the Fantastic 4… we _can’t_ risk it.”  
   
Tony smiled, a really unpleasant smile. “You two are so full of crap. Look at you… _‘You know my motto: whenever possible, make love not war’,_ ” he parroted what he heard every night in his dream. “And _you_ \- what the hell happened to you, Rogers? What happened to _‘There’s always another way’_?”  
   
The General’s eyes met President Stark’s gaze. “Sometimes you have to accept the alternative would be worst,” he declared.  
   
Tony closed his hands into fists. Everything inside him was screaming _this isn’t right. This isn’t right!_ It all sounded like racist bullshit to him.  
   


_“Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time.”_

  
   
He knew, if Steve had been there, he would have punched them. But he wasn’t, was he? Tony was alone. And he wasn’t cut for this. He was the pragmatist. Steve was the one who always believed in people.  
   
“Who the hell are you to decide someone can’t be good just because of _what_ he his?” Tony snarled. And oh God, he was _furious_. He was trembling with it. “Who the hell are you to be judge and jury! Everyone deserves a second chance. _Every one_.” He thought it would be Rogers to reply, and Tony had just the right comeback for whatever it would be – he was expecting it. He was wrong.  
   
“ _They broke our world!_ ” Stark exploded. “They killed _thousands_ of our people. Killed countless of our friends. They _played_ us, kept us at each other throat. _They stole six years of our lives!_ ”  
   
To his surprise, Rogers put a hand on Stark’s chest and made him take a step back. Stark gripped his shirt, trembling, and didn’t let him go.  
   
“Are you with me, Avenger?” Rogers said, voice firm, eyes searching.  
   
Stark met his gaze and took a shuddering breath. Then nodded. A silent conversation seemed to flow between them; then, the General nodded too.  
   
Tony turned his face. He couldn’t watch anymore. It was just too much. _I can’t believe I am the one to have to say all this_. The one on the other side, fighting to give someone a second chance. _He killed my mother_ , he said to Rogers. And his ire was legitimate, wasn’t it? He had the right to be angry, for fuck’s sake. And so had Stark and Rogers, he guessed. They were all Avengers after all. They avenged. And it wasn’t really Barnes fault, in his case, but in theirs… It was the Skrulls fault. Maybe not these two particular Skrulls, but who knew how many others they killed? This was why he wasn’t cut for this. It shouldn’t be him talking here. _You should be here. Why aren’t you?_ He couldn't do this alone. Tony thought again of that stupid cellphone in his drawer.  
   


_‘So no matter what, I promise you. If you need us – if you need me – I’ll be there’._

  
   
Tony staggered. He was so angry, still so angry. Not at Barnes, he didn’t even fault _him_ anymore. He was angry _at Steve_. _Why couldn’t you tell me? I thought you were my friend. What did I do wrong?_    
   
A big hand gripped his elbow, bracing him. “Are you okay?” asked Rogers.  
   
Tony jerked back, terrified. “Don’t _touch_ me!” he snarled. “Don’t you ever touch me.”  
   
The General was stunned. Silence fell, heavy as a blanket. Tony’s breath was harsh and loud.  
   
“What did I do to you?” Rogers question was quiet, almost contemplating. “This isn’t about any ethical thing. This is personal.”  
   
And Tony started laughing. Laughing is heart out until he was doubled over and his stomach hurting, and he didn’t know he was sobbing until Stark squeezed his shoulder.  
   
“You want to know? You really want to know?” Tony breezed. “ _You lied to me!_ You lied to me, you fucking _hypocrite_! _You knew who killed my parents_. You _knew_. And you _never told me_. You lived in my house, you slept under my roof, you berated me for keeping things from you… _And all that time you were lying to my face!_ ” he shouted, Stark gripping him in his arms the only thing keeping him away from Rogers. “Where are all your great morals? Your _principles_? _I thought we were friends!_ ” The General’s face was stony, but his eyes- his eyes were horrified. Tony was screaming himself hoarse. “How _could_ you- What did I do to- I _can’t_ \- I can’t-”  
   
Surprisingly, Stark hold gentled, and he hugged Tony, caressing his back, cheek pressed on his head. There had to be some silent conversation going around between him and Rogers, again, because the General came closer and almost tried to touch Stark’s shoulder, then he seemed to think better of it.  
   
“I-I don’t know anything about it, Tony. I thought Howard and Maria died in an accident.”  
   
“They did,” Stark said. “Car accident.”  
   
“That’s what I thought too. Except it was your buddy Bucky Barnes who caused it,” Tony revealed and felt Stark tense around him, shocked. “He was working for Hydra, back then. As the Winter Soldier.”  
   
“No. No, James was never Hydra,” his counterpart objected. “He was Red Room. He trained Natasha.”  
“He _what_?” Tony snapped, taking a step back to look him in the eyes. That couldn’t be true, could it? _Could it?_ Did Natasha and Bucky know each other from _before_ SHIELD’s fall? Could _that_ be why she helped them?  
   
“Different universes,” Rogers recalled to them. “Just because something went a certain way _here_ , it doesn’t mean it went the same on our Earth.”  
   
“And vice versa,” Stark convened.  
   
 _How could you trust him?_ Tony wanted to ask his counterpart. _How could you thrust Barnes to be your right hand?_  
   
“Uhm… is this a bad moment?” Spider-Man young voice cut the heavy atmosphere like a knife. “It is, isn’t it? Okay, I’ll just go out quietly. Yup. I’ve never been here. Going…”  
   
Stark was smiling, and Rogers was very clearly trying not to do the same. Tony was not amused. “What are you doing here, Peter?”  
   
The kid’s face fell. “Uh- it’s- it’s Saturday morning? We- We agreed I would be in Queens during work days and here with the other Avengers on the weekends? Except emergencies?”  
   
 _It’s Saturday already?_ Tony thought. Meanwhile, Stark placed a hand on his shoulder.  
   
“What he means is: _Welcome back, Peter, I lost track of time. You’re always welcome in my lab; but clean up after yourself, or I’ll bring out the flyswatter_ ,” he declared.  
   
“Flyswatter?” Tony muttered.  
   
“That’s what I used to do. It was hilarious,” Stark whispered.  
   
“O- Okay!” Peter exclaimed with the brightest of smile. “I have a really relevant question, though,” he added. “Do you dye your hair, Mr. Stark?”  
   
Stark lost it; he was doubled over laughing. Rogers looked up to ceiling like he did when he was trying very hard not to do the same. Tony spluttered. “ _What?_ ”  
   
“It’s just- just because President Stark is all white and old fashioned, but he still looks young- I- I mean you look good, Sir, obviously, really charming,” the kid hastened to say.  
   
“No, I don’t dye my hair,” exclaimed Tony outraged. “Look here, you see?” added, showing his temples. “I do have white hair, just don’t have that many. Jesus kid, of all the questions...”  
   
Stark seemed to have calmed down, even if he was still drying some tears from his eyes. “He’s just younger, that’s all,” he said.  
   
Okay, now Tony was curious too. “You look my age. Scratch that, you look better than me. I saw your abs in that bodysuit of yours.”  
   
“Yeah. Extremis slowed my aging. Still, that doesn’t seem to work with my hair. Well... I already had some white hair before I injected myself, so maybe that’s why. Constant amount of stress doesn’t help either.”  
   
“So how old are you, actually?” Peter asked.  
   
“That’s really rude. You don’t ask a lady to reveal her secrets, kid,” Stark pouted.  
   
“He was born in 1960,” Rogers cut short.  
   
“So- so you are- _57_? Holy sh- err- you’re almost _pushing 60_!” Spider-Man squawked.  
   
“He’s older,” the President deadpanned, pointing a thumb in Rogers’ direction.  
   
“Be respectful to your elders, Stark.”  
   
Tony was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He was a decade younger than his counterpart, but... He pinched some excess skin on his abdomen. Should he lose weight? Stark was probably having some similar thought because they caught him trying to examine a lock on his forehead.  
   
Rogers sighed like he was a hundred percent done with them. “You look _good_ , Tony. _Both_ of you” he assured them. “You are really charming, and you have a great body, _especially_ considering your age. Even more important, you are all natural. You’re not fake or super-powered like me.”  
   
Stark’s chocolate eyes became warm and soft. So much so that Tony raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t he taken by that She-Hulk chick?  
   
***  
   
   
“Hey kid, do you have your costume on?” Tony asked, curious.  
   
“Ah, yeah,” Peter said, moving the T-shirt he was wearing from his neck to show a glimpse of red and blue.  
   
“Come on, let me see it. Take your clothes off.”  
   
His counterpart raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked them older.” God, he was so overprotective. It was clear as day how much he loved this kid and felt responsible for him.  
   
“Older, bigger and bossier,” Tony said distractedly.  
   
Stark looked briefly in Steve’s direction then turned his gaze away.  “You don’t say,” he muttered, but Tony wasn’t really listening. Spider-Man had taken off his clothes like he requested and was now standing there in full costume, except for the mask.  
   
“Nice. I recognize the handwork. Really nice,” he said, taking Peter’s hand and making him spin like they were dancing, so he could see him from all angles. “Didn’t have the time to appreciate it on the way here. You look… _amazing_ , Spider-Man.” The kid blushed but was smiling so brightly. “Do you remember when he was this young?” Tony said without taking his eyes off him.  
   
“They grow so fast,” Steve agreed.  
   
“You two are so married,” Peter blurted. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to say that outloud.”  
   
Tony tried to smile, but he felt his heart falling to pieces all over again.  
   


_“You took us in when we had nowhere to go… You’ve been like- like a father to me.” **[1]**_  
   
_“What you did to Spider-Man is **unconscionable**. He wears his need for a father figure on his sleeve, and you played your role to the **hilt** to make him do what you asked.” **[2]**_

  
   
He took Peter’s face in his left hand and caressed his cheek with his thumb. _I was never playing_. Then, he bowed down like he was going to kiss him on the other side but instead whispered in his ear: “I love you, Peter. You are a smart kid. If you know what’s best for you, run away from Tony Stark.”  
   
If a tear fell down from his eye, Spider-Man was the only one to notice.  
   
“So, who’s hungry?” Tony said cheerfully, straightening and already taking the exit. “It’s almost lunch; I’ll go make some sandwiches.” He didn’t look back when Peter called him, even if he could hear Rogers steps following him.  
   
Tony opened the fridge, took tomatoes, mayonnaise, and some leftover chicken and placed all of it on the counter. He could see Steve in his peripheral vision, arms crossed, hips and shoulder pressed against the door frame. Tony was searching for bread and showing him his back when Rogers finally spoke. “I heard what you said to him.”  
   
 _Damn super-soldier hearing_. “Yeah. So what?” the President replied, not even angry, just tired.  
   
“We just said this morning: this is a different universe; they are different people.”  
   
Tony was occupied covering a slice of bread with a copious amount of mayo. “Not that much different,” he said after a while. “The kid deserves better.”  
   
“You know- he isn’t that bad, the other Tony. He actually reminds me a lot of you when you were younger, when I first met you.”  
   
“He hasn’t been Iron Man for long,” he agreed, never looking at him.  
   
“They don’t know each other all that much. Their situation is different.”  
   
“All the more reasons to-”  
   
“He loves Peter.”  
   
Tony hands were trembling now. “I know.”  
   
“I don’t think he’s going to stay standing if he loses another person.”  
   
Tony closed his eyes shut, gripping the edge of the counter, head bowed. “He will. We adapt, we go on. It’s what Starks do.” He didn’t hear Rogers moving, but he suddenly felt him at his back.  
   
“You loved Spider-Man since the first moment you met him,” he said, putting his hands on Tony shoulders, kneading his tensed muscles.  
   
“You did too,” he whispered.  
   
“He was always special,” Steve admitted.  
   
“I miss him,” Tony confessed. “I miss our Peter.”  
   
Steve didn’t say anything, just kept massaging his shoulders. There wasn’t any pleasant lie to say. They could never have back what they lost. Peter was an adult and thought Tony was a monster. Had his good reason for it. It was too late.  
   
***

They worked in the lab all day. Between him and his counterpart, and some fresh thinking from Peter, the work proceeded rapidly, and the time flew by. They tackled the problem head on; but no matter what variables they changed, the simulation kept collapsing on itself.  
   
“The space tissue is worn-out,” Stark said frustrated, fingers through his white hair, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. “If we try to open it like this-”  
   
“ _Ka-boom,_ ” Peter concluded, mimicking the demolition of something with his hands.  
   
“We could call Strange,” Rogers said. Tony wasn’t sure why he was still there. He couldn’t help in any significant way; he wasn’t a scientist after all.  
   
“No,” Stark said distractedly.  
   
“Who’s strange?”  
   
“Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme. Very weird,” the President explained.  
   
“Kind of the expert in inter-dimensional travel. Nice guy,” Rogers assured.  
   
“Nice mustache,” Stark admitted.  
   
“So?” the General prompted.  
   
“No,” Stark deadpanned.  
   
“I know you hate magic, but-”  
   
“They don’t know him yet, so no.”  
   
“What about Mr. Fantastic?” Rogers tried again.  
   
“Mr. Fantastic? Who calls himself _Mr. Fantastic_? It sounds like a stripper name,” Tony grinned.  
   
“Reed,” Stark said surprised. “You don’t even have a Reed Richards? Oh boy…”  
   
Tony frowned, pensive. “Sounds familiar. Isn’t he a kid?”  
   
 _“Doctor Reed Richards, born 19 th November 1998 to Evelyn and Nathaniel Richards, in Central City, California. A child prodigy with special aptitude in mathematics, physics, and mechanics, has recently obtained several degrees at MIT,”_ Friday intervened helpfully.  
   
Stark hid his face in his palms. Rogers was likewise shocked. “He’s what, nineteen?”  
   
 _“Yes, General,”_ the AI replied.  
   
“We are not calling him,” he declared.  
   
“Nope,” the President agreed.  
   
“I’m guessing he’s older in your universe?” Tony ventured.  
   
“Yeah, just slightly younger than me. And even as an adult, Reed can be a little-”  
   
“Spaced out. Cold,” concluded Rogers.  
   
“He has Asperger’s,” Stark chided. “We are friends. Good friends.”  
   
“Yeah, never met him. I’m sure he’s great. We are not involving another kid,” Tony deadpanned. “We can do this alone, without magic or other help.”  
   
So they kept on working straight to the early morning hours until Peter fell asleep on the worktable, head pillowed on his crossed arms. Tony would have left him there, or maybe relocated him to the sofa, but Stark and Rogers didn’t seem of the same opinion.  
   
“Come on Spidey, time to call it a night,” his counterpart announced, shaking his shoulder. The kid only grumbled and kept on sleeping. Stark exchanged a look with the General and shrugged. “I’ll take him.”  
   
“Mr. Parker is old enough to go to bed on his own legs,” Tony objected, frowning.  
   
“I don’t mind,” Stark said distracted, already passing an arm under Peter’s knees and the other behind his shoulders. He lifted the little guy like he weighed nothing, then winked. “I’m stronger than I look.” Rogers tucked Peter’s arms to his chest so they weren’t dangling lifelessly in the air.  
   
Tony felt a strange queasy feeling looking at the three of them, his stomach cramping. “Are you guys going to tuck him in and read him a fairytale?” he snapped harsher than he meant to.  
   
“No, but Cap could recount one of his war stories. That could put anyone right to sleep,” Stark whispered, smiling at the super-soldier.  
   
When he left the workshop with Peter in his arms, Rogers didn’t stop looking in their direction, faced closed up and somewhat sad. It was a look Tony saw too many times on Steve’s face, the look of someone who saw his past, his home, his life, trailing away in front of him and could do nothing about it.  
   
“Why are you still here?” the genius snapped, startling him. “You stayed here all day when it wasn’t necessary, and _now_ you let him leave alone? Go with him, for fuck’s sake.”  
   
“I don’t-”  
   
“I really don’t care. Go to him, or go to bed. Go wherever you want. Just go away,” Tony snarled, and Rogers finally got the message. He was finally alone.  
   
Tony sagged on a stool and opened the last drawer on his left. There was a bottle of scotch there and underneath a folded sheet of paper. He took the bottle, poured a healthy dose in a cup of stale coffee and closed the drawer. Swallowed a mouthful and opened the drawer again. Tony gripped the letter and unfolded it. By now, he could recite the content without even looking at it, but he read it one more time. Just to look at the handwriting, maybe.  
   
He thought of the three men who just vacated the room. _That could have been us_. Or not. Because why would they? He and Steve weren’t even friends, and Tony barely knew Parker. They were strangers, weren’t they? Not like his counterpart and the General. And even then- it was wrong, right? It was- stupid. Stark and Rogers were enemies, and Peter wasn’t the Spider-Man of their universe. They looked ridiculous… They looked like a family.  
   
 _That could have been us_.  
   
***  
   
Peter was sleeping like a rock even after Tony put him to bed. Steve covered him with the sheets, and they looked at him sleeping for a long time. The room was dark, only a sliver of light coming through the door, left ajar. Steve face was even darker, eyebrows meeting in a frown, all sharp black shadows like it was set in stone.  
   
“What is it?” Tony asked him.  
   
“Just wondering…” he whispered. “Do you ever think-” Steve said after a long while “about all the things we gave up for this life? Not just the people we know, friends, lovers we’ve lost... The one we couldn’t have too…”  
   
Tony brought his eyes back to Peter, to his hair curling on the pillow. “That’s right. You always wanted kids, a wife.”  
   
“I always dreamed of having my own family. I didn’t realize…” Steve murmured.  
   
“What?” Tony prompted.  
   
Cap looked up, searching his gaze. Tony could barely see the blue of his eyes in the darkness. Steve seemed-  
   
“I already had it all... Until we lost it.” Steve whispered.  
   
He thought of Steve’s smile welcoming him home after a long meeting. Clint and Pietro bickering on the sofa. Reading stories to Cassie before bedtime… It was all gone, another life. Tony shook his head. “You could still have it. You age so slowly- and any woman would be happy to call you their husband. It’s not too late.”  
   
“I can’t. Having my own kids- it’s too dangerous.”  
   
“That’s bullshit-”  
   
“Kids, a wife, it’s not- I didn’t realize-” he repeated.  
   
“You could, Steve. It’s not too late-”  
   
“That’s not what I want,” Cap cutted curtly. “Beside… it wouldn’t be the same- without _you_.”  
   
Tony’s breath caught in his throat. His sight was better after Extremis, but it was too dark even for him. Even with Steve so closed, just a step away. He blinked, confused. “Cap… Steve- what-”  
   
Steve placed a hand on the back of his neck, pushed him closer, pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t know- I don’t know, Tony. I don’t know.”  
   
They fell silent, a breath and still a mile away. _I don’t know how to fix this. How to close this gup anymore_. “I’m sorry,” Tony exhaled.  
   
“Tony-”  
   
He closed his eyes, gripped Steve’s T-shirt. “I can’t apologize for what I did. I still believe in registration, but- but I never wanted it to go _so far_...” he whispered, voice almost inaudible. “I should have- I should have seen it coming. Veranke- everything-”  
   
“You can’t blame yourself for that-”  
   
“No. _No_ , Steve. I call myself a _Futurist_. Seen this kind of things- it’s what _I do best_. And I was so blind. So- _so blind,_ ” he shut his eyes tighter, refusing to break again. “I’m really sorry for that, I am Steve, I _swear_ \- If I had know-”  
   
“Nobody knew.”  
   
“ _I_ should have. I’ve wanted to come to you _so many times_ …”  
   
“I know,” Steve whispered. “I know” he repeated, pressing even closer. “Let’s go home, Tony. Things are going to change now-”  
   
“No.”  
   
“Tony-”  
   
“It’s 2017, Steve.”  
   
“Yeah. I noticed.”  
   
“We’ve been stuck- in _between_ \- for almost two years,” Tony stressed and, so close, he watched comprehension downing in those piercing, hackingly beautiful blue eyes.  
   
“Things are not going to be the same.”  
   
***  
   
“Mr. Stark, you’ve been up all night?”  
   
Tony didn’t look away from the screen but unconsciously lifted an arm, inviting Spider-Man to his side. The kid was there in an instant, and Tony hugged his shoulders. “Is it morning already?”  
   
“Uh- yeah,” Peter said distractedly. He was checking the progress like a good little scientist. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”  
   
“It’s okay, you need your beauty sleep,” the genius answered, changing something on the screen. Then he finally looked Peter in the eyes. “Did you have breakfast?”  
   
“Not yet.” He admitted guiltily.  
   
“How do pancakes sounds to you?” Tony asked, taking the exit with the kid still under his arm.  
   
“Great! Sounds great!” Peter said with enthusiasm. “Uh- Mr. Stark?”  
   
“Yes, Mr. Parker?”  
   
“How did I get to my bed last night?”  
   
“… Stark and Rogers tacked you in.” Yeah, Tony saw them. He checked on them through Friday because- well his counterpart was a tad too affectionate with Peter, borderline flirty and- yeah, he was Tony Stark, he flirted like he breathed, it wasn’t serious, but still Tony didn’t like it around a _fifteen_ -year-old cute hero. Stark would never do something- unworthy, he knew. Even so, Tony worried.  
   
That’s was why, when Peter’s face darkened, he noticed immediately. “What is it, kid?”  
   
“Don’t take this wrong, Mr. Stark, but- I’m not all that sure that I like the other you.” He admitted. “He said something to me yesterday. And... I get that he’s probably trying to protect me but- but we are _not_ them. He- he doesn’t get to _assume_ \- we aren’t going to do the same mistake they did, right?” The kid said uncertain yet somewhat angrily, stopping in the middle of the corridor. He didn’t wait for an answer either. “Things are different here. I don’t care what he says. _I trust you_ , Mr. Stark.” Peter declared looking him straight in the eyes, jaw set in a stubborn line.  
   
 _My God, you are amazing_ , Tony thought. His heart was beating so loudly. God help him, this kid- “Hear me out, Pete. Don’t ever – ever! – let someone influence your opinion. Not even _me,_ ” he said. “You need to think with your own head. _Hundreds_ of people will try to steer you this way or that, some for your own good and some- not. Listen to them, always listen. Just don’t let them get to you. Okay?” He stressed, patting his chest.  
   
“Okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter nodded.  
   
Tony nodded back, satisfied. “Good, kid.” He concluded, then thought better of it. “You are a good kid, you know that? I want you to know that. Don’t think that I don’t appreciate you just because sometimes my patience runs short. I don’t want you to-” _I don’t want you to end up like me_.  
   
“I think you are great too, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied with a shy smile. “The greatest.”  
   
“You’re going to make me cry, kid. It’s too early. And I have a bad heart, you know?” Tony babbled, starting walking again. “Shut up. Let’s go have breakfast.”    
   
***  
   
In the end, Vision solved the problem. “You said the fabric of the universe is too worn out,” he observed, pacing the floor. Then, he stopped and turned to look at them. “So what if we opened a portal elsewhere.”  
   
“You mean- in another location?” asked Tony, evaluating the idea. They didn’t need to open it where they arrived, where the Divide was. They could do it somewhere else, where they knew it would coincide with a safe – possibly neutral – place.  
   
“Yes, that too,” the android said. “ _To_ another location,” he clarified then.  
   
“Oh my God, you are _beautiful!_ ” Stark exclaimed, kissing his red forehead. “Why didn’t we think of that before?”  
   
“You’ve lost me.” Steve admitted.  
   
“I second that.” Spider-Man added.  
   
“What if we opened a portal to another dimension, one we know to be safe,” Vision explained in his composed voice. “And then you do another jump from there to your universe?”  
   
“Oh, that’s brilliant.” Tony agreed. “So it wouldn’t be universe to universe, but universe to alternate dimension to another universe. And put less strain on the space-tissue. _Brilliant_.”  
   
“Please refrain from kissing me. I appreciate the sentiment,” Vision deadpanned.  
   
“Did you just make a joke?” Peter said surprised.  
   
“… Yes.” He replied, quite pleased with himself.  
   
“I didn’t know you could make jokes.”  
   
“Of course Vision can make jokes, he has JARVIS’ memories.” Stark snorted. “And he was a very sassy fella, let me tell you.”  
   
“We will have to jump to somewhere relatively safe. Let’s say... the Negative Zone?”  
   
“I wouldn’t call the Negative Zone safe.” Steve objected face darkening.  
   
“We just need to stay there a minute, just the time to jump from there to our Earth.” Tony reassured him. “Okay, so now we have to make the machine for opening the portals. Easy-peasy.” He started to write something on one of the glass-like screens. Under his hand, a simulation of one Earth multiplied into two, then four, then rapidly escalated in hundreds, then thousands.  
   
Stark half-smiled, pointed at the screen with a pen, then asked: “Okay, what the hell is that?”  
   
“ _This_ …” Tony took the image on the screen and threw it in the air, “is the _Multiverse._ ” He said in his best theatrical voice. And the hologram _exploded_ surrounding them with a multitude of twirling blue worlds. Peter and Steve were clearly in awe.  
   
“You knew how to do that all this time?” Stark grinned, clearly not pleased.  
   
“Of course, how else would we go home without the coordinates?”  
   
“Where are we?” Steve questioned in his best Captain voice.  
   
“Here.” Tony said, touching the hologram of the planet right above them. “Earth-199999.” Then he whistled. “Wow, we came a long way…”  
   
“You have the Earths _classified_?” Spider-Man squawked.  
   
“Everyone who had contact with other universes already did it. Welcome to the club.” Tony announced.  
   
“Friday, please give me Earth-32323.” Steve asked. The hologram enlightened the way with a gold line, traveling swiftly from the world above them to the one required. And their Earth shone brighter for a second. “Home…” the General said.  
   
“I don’t get it.” Peter admitted, jumping up and sitting on the worktable, legs dangling. “I thought you were from the universe closest to ours and that was why you fell here. But you are like- billions of light-years away!” He exclaimed.  
   
“Mr. Parker does have a point.” Vision agreed. “Why here? Why not in the universe next to yours?”  
   
Tony shrugged. “The universe closest are the most similar to one another, generated by a singular event that changed something, making them just slightly different from the one next door.” He explained. “Maybe there our counterparts are already dead; or we were too late, and the Skrulls won.  Maybe, in the next universe, there isn’t anyone who could find us... Or maybe this one was the fastest to figure it out.” He concluded, patting Stark’s back.  
   
“Or…” Vision pondered. “Maybe our current situation resonated with yours.”  
   
“The Civil War.” Steve said, grim.   
   
“It doesn’t matter. The only important thing is that we have a way back.” Tony reminded them. “Put on your red shoes and click your heals, Cap. We are going home.”  
   
 ***  
   
Designing the machine for opening the portal took less than a day. It was mostly Stark’s work, really; Tony only helped a little. What he really did was study and memorize anything he could, graciously taking the lesson from his older self.  
   
“This was quicker than I thought.” Tony admitted.  
   
Stark smiled, the blue light from the hologram reflected on his glasses and made his hair turquoise. “I once created a crude time machine from scraps of my armor. Well- Doom gave me a hand and some spare parts of his own, or we would both be still stranded in Camelot, but you get the point…”  
   
Tony thought of Afghanistan. Yeah, he got the point. “ _Camelot_?” He said instead.  
   
Stark smirked. “Maybe one day you’ll see for yourself.” He turned his gaze on the machine. They were good to go. They didn’t need to fly to a specific location because the first jump would be to a parallel dimension. “Thank you- for saving us.”  
   
Tony shrugged. “I was there to close the rip, didn’t know you and Rogers were stuck in between.”  
   
“Still- if it wasn’t for you, we would still be there. We wouldn’t even know we were still alive. You saved us.” He stressed. “Not only our lives. I- I don’t think you get how important were these past few days for us. We haven’t really talked for- for years, me and Steve.” Stark said in a quiet voice. He took off his glasses and started playing with them. “You gave us a second chance.”  
   
Tony turned his gaze away, his chest hollow. Then shrugged again. “You did that. I only gave you a room and some clothes.”    
   
“Well, that helped too. I mean- I could have gone around in my birthday suit, but Rhodey would probably have been scarred for life.” Stark said, lightening the mode.  
   
“We have a kid here. We can do that kind of things anymore.”  
   
“What a shame.” Stark smiled. “I always thought that meeting another me would be cathartic. Thought I would hate him, but you- I _like_ you. The way you confronted the General the first day… You have _balls._ ” He said and Tony laughed this time.  
   
“You are not so bad either.” He replied. “Nice glasses. They look good on us.”  
   
Stark patted his shoulder. “Take care of your family.” He said, on a more serious note. “Never give up on them.”  
   
Tony nodded. _I won’t_. He didn’t need to say it.  
   
Stark suited up while the others trailed in. Rogers was in full Captain America costume too. Vision, Rhodey, and Peter escorted in the two shackled and unconscious Skrulls. Other than that, they were just there to say goodbye. The President hugged Rhodey first; then a compliant Vision; but when he stopped in front of Peter, he hesitated. “Can I?” he asked quietly like he was expecting a no for an answer. Spider-Man’s only reply was to open his arms in invitation. Stark almost lifted him off the floor. “I should have suit up later.” He realized. “Can I keep you?”  
   
“I will repulsor you all the way back to your Earth.” Said Tony casually, and Peter laughed, then doubled over when Stark let him go and pouted.  
   
“He wouldn’t.” Rogers assured Tony, stopping next to him. “But I think you have something of mine.” And how could he forget? Friday opened the storage without prompting, and Tony lifted the General’s shield for the last time.     
   
Rogers fixed it on his back. “It was nice to meet you again.” He said, shaking hands with the others. Then, he turned the full power of his piercing blue eyes on Tony. Their gaze met, and he felt the same sparkling electricity in the air that he always got with the Captain he was used to. He almost expected Rogers to start a new fight.   
   
“Be safe, Tony.” He said instead, voice softer. “And forgive me- _him_ , if you can. What he did to you- there’s _no excuse._ ” Rogers admitted, lips thinned in a line. “But… he wasn’t lucky like me when he woke up from the ice.” He stressed, like that was relevant, like it could explain it all. “He woke up alone, Tony. He didn’t have you, didn’t had the Avengers… For that, I pity him.”  
   
Tony felt the now familiar grip of anger in his stomach. _He woke up alone_. So what? That didn’t justify what Steve did. “I don’t think I can forgive him… I don’t know how.” _He broke me_ , he realized _. He broke my stupid heart_.  
   
“He was afraid.” Rogers said. Tony scoffed, but the soldier didn’t relent. “He had already lost Bucky. He was afraid of losing you, too. And because of that, he actually lost you both.” He clarified then. “He’s _young_ , Tony… Don’t think of him as Captain America. He’s young and lost, and alone.”  
   


_‘I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. I never really fit in anywhere…’_  
   
_‘I **will** miss you, Tony.’_

  
   
Tony didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He turned his face while a tear rolled down on his cheek. Rogers dried it for him with something soft. A _handkerchief_ , he realized, taking it in his hand. An actual cotton handkerchief. Behind them, Stark activated the machine. The portal opened like a giant hole in the air. Through it, they could see a barren landscape in shades of black and white. Stark pushed the Skrulls inside, then stood waiting.  
   
“I can’t believe you had one of those in your utility belt,” Tony said.  
“My ma taught me that a fella always has to have one in his pocket.” Rogers replied half smiling. “You can keep it.”  
“Oh God, this is so _Gone With the Wind._ ” Tony moaned. “Please leave now, you are embarrassing.”  
Rogers gave him the military salute. “Take care of yourself, Avenger.” He ordered, then stepped to Stark’s side, in front of the portal. The light coming through it softened the edge of their figures, bleeding one in the other and – just for a moment – Tony thought Rogers took Stark’s outstretched hand. Then, they were gone.  
   
***  
   
The wind slapped them as soon as they step in the dimension. The Negative Zone was dark and barren, as always. Fortunately, there wasn’t sign of the – admittedly few – inhabitants. And they needed just a minute. Still, while Tony opened the new portal, he was aware of the General guarding his back. The hole in space opened smoothly and the sight through it – even if it was another desert; red and gold this time – almost made his heart stop. It was home.  
   
   
Steve pushed the Skrulls in, then searched his gaze, and nodded. They took the last step at the same time. And the sun was blinding. The air hot, dry, and ever so welcome. They didn’t look at each other again.  
   
   
With a whine of repulsor charged, the heart of the first Skrull pulverized. A thud, and the head of the second alien rolled off with a spray of violet blood, the shield still embedded where the neck once stood. Rogers raised from his crouch in a smooth movement then opened his arms tentatively . His gloves were still bloody when he closed his fist in Tony’s white hair, Iron Man’s fingers making indentation in his reinforced back. The portal silently closed behind them.  
   
   
They stood there in silence, still gripping each other, for a long minute. The only noise their harsh breathing. They were back. This was their Earth. And soon they’ll go back to their respective states.  
But just then, just then at that moment, they were Home.  
   
   
And then every connection – satellite, wi-fi, everything – came online in Tony’s head. And he could suddenly see everything that happened, everything they lost in the last two years.  
   
“ _Oh my God,_ ” he exhaled.  
   
“What?”  
   
“Oh my God, Steve. You have to see this.” Tony slipped out of the embrace and put an arm between them, projecting over it every journal article and TV broadcast he had just found. Peter Parker, Commander of the Blue, and Jennifer Walters, President of the Iron, were shaking hands at the Divide. Signing the peace treaty. Iron families moving into the Blue territory. Iron soldiers escorting food supplies in the Blue…  they were commercial partners. Allies. They were at peace.  
   
“None of them have powers anymore. None of the Avengers, or the X-Men, or- on _both_ sides. They are all human.”  
   
“They are alive.”  
   
“ _Yes!_ ” Tony could barely contain his enthusiasm. His face was hurting from smiling, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt something like this.  
   
Then, Rogers pressed their foreheads together, their breath mingled, their noses almost brushing. He closed his eyes, sun filtering through golden lashes.  
   
“What are we going to do?” Steve asked breathless, lost.  
   
Tony gently unclasped Cap’s helmet, then took it off, and ran his finger through bleach blonde hair. “We should let them go. Leave them alone. They are doing _great_.”  
   
Steve nodded. “We can’t go back,” he agreed quietly, so proud of them all. Heroes, even without their power. All of them. “What about us?”  
   
 _What about us?_  
   
“Let’s disappear,” Tony said on a whim. “We can change identities. I have money saved under another name. Let’s go to my private island and lay on the beach.”  
   
“Of course you have a private island.” Rogers snorted, but he was smiling. “What if something happens? If the Skrulls come back, or something worst.”  
   
“Then we’ll be back.” Tony said, matter of factly. Like it was obvious. And it was. Of course, they’ll be back. The next apocalypse and the next. They were heroes. They were Avengers. “Call it, Winghead.”  
   
“Take us home, Shellhead,” he ordered, finally – _finally_ – brushing his lips.  
   
***  
   
Tony woke up with a start. Throat closed, chest constricted, heart beating. _Oh my God. Oh, God.._. He could still feel the repulsor charging in his hand, the smell of burned meat. He blasted that _unconscious_ alien guy right through the chest. He could still see the splintered ribs, the burned earth on the other side. The head of the other Skrull rolling and bumping against his ankle, the blood splattering his armor.  
   


_“They can’t stay here. They are not from this universe.”_  
   
_“Then, they will die in ours. Your are just delaying the sentence.”_

  
   
Oh God, they killed them. They actually killed them. And he _let_ them... He was going to be sick. Tony doubled over, but nothing came out of his empty stomach, not even bile. It felt like he killed them himself. But he didn’t. He didn’t.  
   
 _I’m not a killer!_ a panicked voice screamed in his head… But that wasn’t exactly true, was it? He killed that kid in Sokovia. He made Ultron. It was his fault. All those people were dead because of him. He was a _monster_. Nothing more than a monster.  
   
A sharp, sudden ringing broke the silence and Tony cowered to the head of the bed, terrified. He couldn’t understand where the hell was it coming from. “W-What is it, Friday?” he muttered, shaking.  
   
 _“It would seem to be a cell phone, Boss.”_  
   
“Connect.”  
   
 _“I can’t, Mr. Stark. It’s too ancient.”_  
   
Then he got it. He opened the drawer beside the bed with trembling fingers; and sure as hell, the paleolithic piece of tech was there, and it was ringing. Tony accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear but didn’t speak. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to.  
   
But it wasn’t necessary.  
   
“We need to talk.” Steve’s voice came through, somewhat metallic but clear. And somehow Tony’s heart started beating even faster.  
   
“Do we?” he asked tonelessly.  
   
“I think we do... I want to.”  
   
“Then talk,” he said.  
   
“I- I had this dream- I keep having this dream… It was always the same for about a week; and then, it stopped for a few days. Except this night- I dreamed again. But it was different…” He could hear the Captain wincing even if he couldn’t see him. “I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense.”  
   
So Rogers had seen them too. And why not? If the space tissue was so thin, if he could see them, why not him? Tony had kind of hoped Steve was too distant from the rip to feeling the effect.  
   
“Tony? Are- Are you still there?”  
   
“It was us,” he said. “It was you and me just from another Earth. What you saw was another universe.”  
   
There was a long a pause. Then: “Are you saying it actually happened? All of that was real?”  
   
“Yeah. They were here. That’s why you didn’t see them for a couple of nights. Now they are back. But the fabric of space is still very thin, so…”  
   
“I- I don’t understand.”  
   
Tony sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Look, it’ll go away in a couple of days. The rip is knitting itself. Just- _soldier on,_ ” he deadpanned. “It’s that all?”  
   
Silence again. He was about to end the call when Rogers spoke again: “I just needed to hear you” he whispered. It was Tony’s turn to fall silent. “Before I woke up I saw- I saw them…”  
   
Uh, yeah. That.  
   
“They aren’t us. So don’t you go worry your pretty head about it,” he replied, more bitterly than he meant to.  
   
“... They made peace.” Steve concluded instead.  
   
Silence. Tony felt hollow. And cold. He felt numb.  
   
“That could have been us,” the Captain said, voice dejected. Like he just realized it, right now, on the phone with him. “They are- We could have... couldn’t we?”  
   
“What?” Tony didn’t want to know.  
   
“Please, Tony. Don’t do this.”  
   
“What do you want me to say?” He was tired. So tired... “You aren’t here.”  
   
“I can’t,” Rogers replied, pained.  
   
“You could. You just don’t want to.”  
   
“That’s not-”

“Isn’t it?” Tony cutoff. “When I brought you that matching set of pens, you almost did. You were considering signing.”  
   
“They made us criminals.”  
   
“No. No Rogers, you did that yourself,” he deadpanned. And for the second time, he was about to put the phone down. This was useless. It wouldn’t solve anything anyway.  
   
“Would you?” Steve asked hesitantly. “Have us- have _me_ \- back.”  
   
Tony was trembling. _Fuck._ He covered his eyes with a hand. _Fuck!_ “You can’t say shit like that.”  
   
“Sorry.” He couldn’t actually see Steve shut off, but could hear it in his voice. He was closing up, distancing himself.  
   


_“… Don’t think of him as Captain America. He’s young and lost, and alone.”_  
   
_“Take care of your family… Never give up on them.”_

  
   
“Yes,” Tony blurted.  
   
“... What?”  
   
“Come back,” he clarified, eating his pride. “If you mean it. If you really want to talk.”  
   
“If they catch us-”  
   
“They won’t,” Tony said, fiercely. “I won’t let them.”  
   
“When?”  
   
 _Now_.  
   
“Soon as you can,” he answered instead. “Or I could come to you. I know where you are.”  
   
A pause. “You know?”  
   
“I’ve always known.” He fell silent, let the implication grow between them. He could have gone after him anytime. He didn’t.  
   
“No. I’ll come.” Steve declared. It was his best Captain America voice.  
   
“Are you sure-”  
   
“I’m coming home, Tony.”  
   
   
***  
   
Somewhere in the tropics the wind was blowing, very gently. White, thin sand danced, partially covering a metal gauntlet and a round shield abandoned beside the water.  
   
 

 

* * *

[1] The Amazing Spider-Man: Civil War, issue #532.

[2] Casualties of War.


End file.
